The Scouring of the Shire: Saruman's Revenge
by The Halfling of the Shire
Summary: There is more to Saruman than meets the eye. What happened after Treebeard released him from Isengard. This is The Scouring of the Shire according to Saruman. It is now finished. Please R&R!
1. 1 The Company on the Road

Gandalf

_Gandalf, oh Gandalf. How I despise you! If not for that stupid Ent I might have died in that prison of a tower. Treebeard. Ha! He fell for my trick, my last trick. With a pathetic image and a persuasive voice I convinced him to let me go. Heh, the fool. I will never forget that day…August 15__th__, when I crawled out of Orthanc, more dead than alive, no thanks to you, Gandalf._

"On your feet!" I commanded Wormtongue, who followed me pathetically out of Orthanc. We set out on the road, leaving Isengard for the last time. Good riddance. Oh, the bumbling grumbling idiot!! I didn't want to put up with him, but he followed my orders so I'll keep him for a while longer, I suppose.

_Those Halflings destroyed me. Vengeance is mine! Oh, if there were only a way to bring a sorrow of sorrows upon them!! But wait… perhaps there is a way. Hm… It might work_.

"Come along Grima," I said.

The Scouring of the Shire: Saruman's revenge

There is more to Saruman than meets the eye. What happened after Treebeard released him from Isengard. This is The Scouring of the Shire according to Saruman. Please R&R!

**Chapter 1: The Company on the Road**

I had been on the road for almost two weeks, starving and ragged. I looked like a beggar, wearing rags of grey and white. I used to be Saruman of many colors, now I was merely a grey pilgrim. Wormtongue looked worse, I suppose. I had nearly killed him when I found out that he had thrown my Palantir out the window. The LAST thing I wanted was for Gandalf to be in charge of that. Although I suppose shouldn't worry about him…he was probably not smart enough to use it. What I should be worrying about is Aragorn.

But I had made a plan, and that counted for something. Those two Halflings had destroyed all of my work and progress, my machinery and my power. But I wasn't going to let them get away with it, no. I will destroy their only home…their beloved Shire, or at least, Hobbiton. No home; no hope. I can take away their gardens, friends, families, homes, houses, farms, trees, carts, and ponies. Or perhaps, instead of destroying Hobbiton, I could change it… from a happy place into a melancholy town full of desolate workers. It would be a place that would not recognize and welcome them. Oh, yes that would be much worse.

"Hurry, up, you idiot!" I shouted over my shoulder. Wormtongue crawled along behind me, gathering dust from the road. "Poor old Grima!" he whined. "Poor old Grima! Always beaten and cursed." I rolled my eyes.

Suddenly, a great company on horseback was heard in the distance. "Hurry up, you fool, unless you want to be killed," I warned him. "Get on the side of the road." He hurried over and stood behind me, cowering and whining some more. Before long, the assembly of riders had overtaken us and had now come to a halt.

"Well, Saruman! Where are you going?"

I looked up. The figure speaking was all robed in white splendor. He sat upon a white horse of noble nature. "What's it to you, Gandalf? Will you still order my goings and are you not content with my ruin?" I answered bitterly.

Then he gave me a sickening speech of mercy from the King of Gondor. I wanted none of it. I wanted revenge. "Go! I did not spend long study on these matters for naught. You have doomed yourselves, and you know it. And it will afford me some comfort as I wander to think that you pulled down your own house when you destroyed mine," I said. "And now, what ship will bear you back across so wide a sea? It will be a grey ship, and full of ghosts." I laughed, mockingly.

"Get up you idiot!" I said to Wormtongue, striking him with my staff. "If these fine folk are going our way then we will take another." He merely whimpered again, following behind me as we began to walk again, this time toward where the company had come from.

"Poor old Grima!" The wretch complained. "How I hate him! I wish I could leave him!"

"Then leave him!" Gandalf persuaded. But he had not my voice, and Grima's terror-stricken face looked back at him for a moment and then he hurried along behind me. Fool. As we came to the rear of the company, all eyes followed us. At the back were the four hobbits, two of which I owed my vengeance. I glared at them and accused them of gloating upon my ruin and stealing my pipe weed.

"One good thief deserves another," I claimed. "It will serve you right when you come home, if you find things less good in the Southfarthing than you would like. Long may your land be short of leaf!" And with that Wormtongue and I departed. After we left and the passing company was out of sight I told Grima to turn around. "We are going to Hobbiton," I said. "And we will get there before those Halflings if it is the last thing I do!"

"It may be," he complained. I struck him once again with my staff. And we retraced our steps, on the path to Hobbiton.


	2. 2 Lotho SackvilleBaggins

Chapter 2: Lotho Sackville-Baggins

**Chapter 2: Lotho Sackville-Baggins**

It was near dusk. Days after we had passed Gandalf's company we arrived near the small dwelling place of the Halflings. I needed some followers if this was to work. Luckily I had negotiated with some ruffians along the way.

_They can help me. Good. Now, who is the leader of this place? A Halfling will be an easy target, and one that can control all the doings of people here will be perfect._

"Hey, who are you?" a small, fat hobbit asked. He was full grown with a big fat belly and dark curly hair and a pipe so long that it ran all the way down to his big hairy feet. "I am a stranger here," I said. "And my poor servant is starving. I don't plan to stay here long… but is there someone, a governor or a mayor that I may speak to?" I used soft, slippery words alike to syrup, charming to those who heard it.

"Well, there's Lotho Sackville-Baggins up a ways there at Bag End," the hobbit said. "But he's more 'influential' than 'in charge' if you get my meaning." "I do," I courteously replied, the kindness rolling off my tongue. It tasted foul. "Thank you."

I leaned on my staff and hurried over to the little hobbit hole. It was cozy looking, with a ringlet of smoke rising from its chimney. I despised its very look. "Wait here," I commanded Grima, and then I knocked on the door. A mean-looking Halfling stood there, and I had to bend down to see him well. His brow was fixed in a wrinkled frown and his eyes looked me up and down and glared up at me. "You aren't Gandalf, are you?" He asked. "A disturber of the peace, you are!"

"No, no, not at all," I replied, the honey dripping from my tongue. "I am acquainted with him but I do not enjoy his rousing spirit. He disturbs the peace where'er he goes and I quite dislike his company. Er, might I come in? Are you Lotho Sackville-Baggins? I have a matter of business to discuss with you."

He looked at me rather distrustfully and then agreed to let me in. "Thank you," I said. He closed the door behind me and let me sit down on a big comfy chair. "I understand that Bilbo and Frodo Baggins have done you some injustices," I began. "Why, yes!" he replied, looking rather startled, and still not quite trusting me.

"Well, I unfortunately came to know several Halflings of undesirable mention, including the friends of the Bagginses: Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, for some."

"I've heard of 'em." Lotho said.

"I thought so," I said and nodded understandingly "Well, I was walking along the road and they came riding by. And-" he cut me off. "Do you mean that they are coming back to Hobbiton?!" he asked, standing up. "Yes," I replied.

"And with the worst of intentions, too! Frodo regrets selling you his house and now wants you to give it back to him. And his friends have decided to help him, by any means necessary." "They can't do that!" Lotho shouted, enraged. "Well, if I may, I propose a plan." I said, coolly.

_This kindness thing is killing me_, I thought.

"What is it?" he asked, sitting down. "Well," I began. "If you put a gate in front of Hobbiton and make strict rules, they are likely not to want to come back. And if you continue these strict rules then you might have more of a …shall we say… powerful and meaningful authority?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Do the hobbits follow you? Obey you? Of course not! But if you were in charge and had authority over Hobbiton, you could do whatever you wanted to! Make taxes and become richer than Bilbo himself ever claimed to be! Feel the satisfaction of ordering sheriffs about. That's what I mean." I exclaimed. Finally, we were getting to the point.

It worked. The greed set in. Lotho's eyes became strangely far off… as if he were dreaming of wealth and happiness. Suddenly, he looked at me. "Who are you?" he asked. Oh, so many questions. Halflings are **so** tiresome. "Why are you doing this for me?"

"Let's just say that I am an old enemy of Gandalf, Bilbo, Frodo and the rest, and I don't want to see the downfall of innocent hobbits here in the Shire. And if I can help you and bring about my justice to them in the same process then I am more than willing to do so! What do you say?"

He thought a moment, and then agreed. We set our plan to work.


	3. 3 Sharkey, the Chief, and the Ruffians

Chapter 2: Lotho Sackville-Baggins

**Chapter 3****: ****Sharkey, the Chief, and the Ruffians**

_I didn't get any rest last night, _I thought to myself, grumbling at my misfortunes. I was walking along with Lotho to see that the work on the gate was going smoothly. Earlier that morning we had ordered some hobbits such as a selection of Bracegirdles and a few Proudfoots to help us and get to work.

_These Halflings are SO tiresome… question after question when I had spent weeks devising a plan. If Lotho didn't hate Frodo so much I mightn't have gotten anywhere. All night; just talking about just what we plan to do. I'm just glad I found those ruffians along the way. But where are they? Shouldn't they be arriving any day now?_

I needed their help to round up followers and oppress uncooperative hobbits. We came to the gate. Some of the hobbits had refused to do any work. "We don't need a gate." They said, looking stupid and innocent. "Arrest any who don't cooperate." I ordered the sheriffs, and three hobbits refused to budge. They were carried off immediately. Just as I turned to warn the others that the easiest way to go was to do as I said, a band of rough men came walking and riding up. "Excellent!" I said, and walked up to meet them.

"Oi, Lotho! What's this all about, eh?" A Tom Cotton asked, leaning on some of the fence poles. "Yeah, who's yer friend?" chorused some others. "Don't call me Lotho!" he replied, rather angrily. "I'm in charge now, and this guy's gonna help me do it!" "Do what?" the hobbits asked in return. "Get in charge!" he answered. "From now on you are to call me Chief, or the Chief, 'cuz I'm in charge and you're not."

Of course, I heard the whole thing. I sighed, wishing that I didn't have to associate with this race of stupid idiots. But, there was no other way to taste full revenge on those two Halflings. I walked up to the band of ruffians. "Greetings, friends." I called out. "We're not your friends," their leader replied. "We're just in this for the money promised us. What's the bargain?" "The taxes you take are the taxes you keep." I answered. "I thought we might call ourselves 'gatherers and sharers' for starters, that way we can grab more followers from these idiots."

Some of the rough men laughed at this, but the leader remained grim. "What is it you want from us?" he asked. _Finally, here's someone who's willing to get to the point._ "Round up your band of scallywags and post guards around Hobbiton, then 'gather' and 'share' to your contentment, help yourselves to the crops, ale and food available here, block off roads and arrest protesters." I answered, grinning at myself. Oh, will those two misfit Halflings be surprised.

"This sounds rather dull," he answered. "Are you just trying to terrorize these people?"

"No," I answered. "They are behind on machinery and technology, and their little land is not secure. They don't follow rules and are selfish people. We need to help them by giving them rations and mills and jails and gates. Just ask their chief, he's over there. They want our help, and as far as I'm concerned, you can have all you can take."

My voice once again assumed its power. It sounded great. The chief rode up to Lotho and asked him if this is what they wanted. These rough men hated having anything to do with people, especially **nice** things. But, I had convinced them that it was beneficial for them and that I had a purpose here and it sounded like they would gain from it, so he agreed to help. He posted his ruffians all around Hobbiton.

"The gate will be finished by sundown," I commanded the (still) arguing Halflings. "Or you will occupy the prisons." "Who are you to order us about?" a young boy asked. "I am only doing this for your own good," I replied, honey dripping from my tongue once more. "The Chief has decided that you are too free, and are selfish and need healthy rules to follow. And the first of those rules is to do as you are told!"

"Yeah, well, why should we do as you say? Our way of life has been peaceful and happy up 'til now, and who are you to order us about?" a rebellious pipsqueak asked. I smacked him with my staff, and then remembered Wormtongue. Where was he?

"I am called Sharkey," I replied. _What a dumb name. I can't believe that's the first name that popped into my head. _

_Oh well, Sharkey it is. And Sharku in Orcish means literally "old man". Great._ "I am the right hand man of the Chief, and I see to it that his orders are obeyed." I maintained my 'superiority'.

Lotho and I left, and the hobbits went back to work…under the sharp eye of a small cluster of ruffians. Now, where was Grima?


	4. 4 Of Rations and Regulations

Chapter 2: Lotho Sackville-Baggins

Chapter 4: Of Rations and Regulations

(and a bit of weed)

"Grima!" I called.

_Where was that idiot? _

He had probably found some little hole to crawl into and nurse his wounds, which, I have to admit, were many. But it takes discipline to learn to shut one's mouth, and he frequently opened his to complain and grumble about the wounds which I gave him because of his grumbling. It was a tangled knot and he brought it upon himself. But where was he?

I looked around, surveying the beautiful damage that I had brought upon this little…town, you could say, although it was scarcely the size of one. It was a pathetic, miserable little place full of gardens and flowers and trees and cottages and…happy children.

_Oh, how I hate children, and how I hate happy ones too. What do they have that I haven't got? I had power, wealth, minions, but perhaps..? No, it's a stupid thought. Happiness has absolutely nothing to do with families._

"Grima!" I called angrily. "You try my patience! I will find you, Scum, and you'll be in trouble!" I came up to Bag End and saw a little hobbit hole nearby. "Who lives there?" I inquired. "Over there? That's the old Gaffer, Gamgee he's called. Why?" he asked. I merely shook my head in response.

_This is misery. Oh, Gandalf you will pay dearly for this._

Suddenly, Wormtongue popped his head up from the grassy hillside. "Do not punish me, I beg," he said, groveling at my feet. "This kindly man, er, hobbit, invited me in for tea and a biscuit. Seeing as I had not eaten for many days, I accepted." He cowered, expecting a blow. I yielded and did not strike; it's no use wasting my time.

"There shall be no admittance 'after hours'", I announced. "and each man shall have rations, no more, no less and NO sharing! Record this 'Gamgee' as disregarding two rules."

"I meant no 'arm, sir," he said defensively. "Just a bit of tea for a poor, starving creature is an act of kindness, and I knew of none o' them 'rules', and may I say that even if there wuz a lotta' them 'rules' of yern I still would of offered 'em a warm place to stay." He crossed his arms defiantly.

"The rules are broken, nevertheless, and you may record a third," I added "for refusing to accept authoritive decisions. And may I remind you, Old Gaffer, that to follow these rules and not cause a disruption may be the better part of judgment for yourself." I smiled, but the stubborn fool had not the taste for my sweet speech and stated simply that I could take away liberty but never remove the taste of Freedom form his lips, and that I could take away material goods, but not destroy the spirit of riches. I glared at him and then I jotted down a fourth rule break: Back-talking to an official. By the end of the conversation I had a list as follows:

Admitting guest 'after hours'

Sharing of rations

Refusing to accept authoritive decisions

Back- talking to an official

Rhetorically insulting the Chief and 'comrades'

Praising the pipe weed of the Southfarthing

Smoking it

Resisting accusations

Refusal to budging or going indoors

Resisting arrest (before Lotho said he wanted no arrests yet, the fool)

Staying outdoors 'after hours'

Not allowing gatherers and sharers to enter household

Raising voice at the Chief and officials

Drinking beer (he made mention of doing thus but did not altogether do it during our conversation)

Talking after hours

If Lotho had not insisted on not arresting him I could not have killed him there. But if this was to work I'd have to be patient. I hate waiting. With these idiots? This is WAY harder than it looks.

_You Halflings will pay for this; dearly_

And since they took the liberty of stealing and smoking my pipe weed (dearly bought), I also gave myself the honor of smoking theirs to my satisfaction. Perhaps this could be fun if I play the pieces right. As for you Halflings, the game is already lost it seems. All I need is a few more days. And maybe another smoke.

Please Review! I'm sorry I took so long with this chapter to post!

More coming, keep reading!

(I update my profile often, so please check it out and vote on my poll!)


	5. 5 Wormtongue and Bill Ferny

Chapter 2: Lotho Sackville-Baggins

**Thank you to all who have been reading and reviewing my stories.**

Chapter 5: Wormtongue and Bill Ferny

Well, after that masquerade with the Gaffer I strode down to Bag End to have smoke, and maybe one of those good cakes. Ms. Lobelia Sackville-Baggins was none too happy for me to be staying with them, but with my sweet speech she slowly consented to my staying, after a little, shall we say, _persuasion?_

After all, Lotho, I mean, "The Chief", as the idiot preferred to be called, didn't mind a bit, seeing as he was on his way to being a little king over his puny little livelihood. OH, the more time alone the better, I suppose. Lotho didn't take a liking to Wormtongue, although that's not entirely his fault, Grima was rather a sight. I am almost happy for him that he got well fed and received some hospitality, although he didn't deserve it, I daresay not! This was probably why I was so harsh to Gamgee, although I must say that WAS a bit of fun, nothing like what I've endured the last few days. Oh, nothing gives me more pleasure then to see stupid idiots learning what life is really like, and what better way then for them to experience it firsthand?

I woke up early in the morning to the sound of garden shears clipping away, and some birds chirping, and little children skipping and singing, a pony cart wheeling by, and all sorts of lovely things which sounded foul to my ears, dreadfully out of tune with this 'happy' place. I went to the window and saw the sun shining, the grass green, sky blue, and little people wearing green and yellow romping around and going about their work. It was dreadful, like a nightmare! No towers! No ramparts! No walls or, wait, there was my gate. It was the only welcoming object for me into this little dwelling place of the munchkins. These little Halflings were just asking for trouble.

_Oh, just wait until you find out what's in store for that pathetic mill!_

I forced myself out into the sunshine. All of the happy little people stopped and stared at my, well, size. And my not-so-fairy-tale-like-appearance. I must say that I didn't look as fierce as I would have hoped. "Well, if it isn't the Chief and Sharkey," a whiney voice behind me scoffed. "That's the best you could find, eh, Lotho?" "What's it to you, Bill Ferny?" The 'Chief' asked in reply.

"Oh, nothing," the sleazy, weasel-faced hobbit answered. I liked him almost at once. "Simply that I was coming down a yonder looking for my pony, some hobbits stole from me last year. Lived down a ways here, I figured they'd be coming back this way." "Last year?" I asked, "Why are you looking for them just now?" "Hm, an excellent question," he said, eyes squinting in a mean-looking way. "I heard a rumor that they'd be coming this'a'way soon, they were headed for Bree last I heard and when they came near I had hoped to stop 'em and get me' pony back, but no follower's would be had, and then I thought maybe some o' you kind folk might recognize me pony, for I didn't see it amongst them on the journey back. Perhaps a kind gentleman or two could step forward and help a kind soul?"

"Bah, Ferny!" spat Lotho. "A kind soul you most certainly are not! That poor half starved creature was probably better off with my half-wit cousin, not even a true Baggins, he's not, and if you're coming here asking us for help, then go back home, for you'll get none of it, you hear?"

"Wait now," I said calmly. "Perhaps we could discuss a bargain with this fellow, er, _gentleman_?" I proposed with a wink to Lotho and we escorted the mean-looking hobbit, Ferny, inside. When we came out again, quite a disturbance had occurred, every hobbit arguing about everything, whether to follow us or trust us or not and so on and so forth.

"We have decided to help this here Bill Ferny," I announced. "In return he shall be one of our sheriffs and be in charge of the far gate hither," I pointed to our newly-constructed gate. Ferny just rubbed his hands together in a malicious, greedy manner. I KNEW I liked him now. I appointed certain hobbits for certain work in certain areas at certain times, and none were too happy at all. Too bad for them, but this is the way things are going to be.

_And now for that mill…_


	6. Daydreams, Contributions and Progress

Chapter Six: Evil Daydreams, Contributions and (finally

Chapter Six: Evil Daydreams, Contributions and (finally!) some Progress

Bill Ferny had been a great edition to our band. Ever since we agreed to help him bring justice upon Frodo and Sam, he agreed to bring justice to Merry and Pippin. After appointing him head-sheriff over the gate construction, he did an amazing job by helping the ruffians close down the Green Dragon and make it into a jail, and then to make a set of outrageous rules that I must say were awfully fun to make up.

He thought it was rather funny that "_Sharku_" meant 'old man' in Orcish, and I told him that 'Sharkey' wasn't my real name. "I should say not!" he answered, a wry, mischievous smile across his face. "I noticed that you were a wizard of high status when I first laid eyes on you, and that you were not just some beggar." This was a comfort, but I still didn't tell him right then that I was Saruman the White, or even that I had been Saruman of Many Colors, for I still didn't trust anybody at this point. And yet, I somehow knew that he'd be the first to know.

_What a rat!_

I knew that I didn't have much time. Gandalf and the Halflings would probably stop in Bree for a day and be back in Hobbiton soon, so I had to act quickly. I wanted to be ready. I found an old cloak in one of Lobelia's drawers (it was rather long for the hobbits er, _height_) and to her great dissatisfaction, I added it to my wardrobe. The weather cooled quickly in the Shire's midsummer evenings and my rags were cold and rather pathetic looking, I must admit. It really was quite a hard transition from the head of my order as a wizard to being a beggar amongst stupid children, but at least I didn't have to deal with Radagast the Simple. He was a handful!

"_Why?" _He'd always ask.

"_Dear Radagast," _I'd say _"I'm the head of the Order and I am very much wiser than you are and I have many wise and complicated reasons. Now give my message to Gandalf to come to me and then you can go play with your birds again and leave the other wizards alone!" _

I sighed. At least_ that _was the one order he obeyed, and even then I couldn't stop Gandalf.

_But don't you worry, my friend,_

I thought to myself, an evil grin spread across my face.

_Be wary, O, Grey Pilgrim, my revenge will be long and sweet._

I woke up from my daydreaming. I should be thinking about plans and revenge! And besides, this might work out rather nicely.

Lotho, Ferny and I stayed up late working on a set of rules (as I mentioned earlier) for the hobbits to follow, designating regulations, rations, code of 'hospitable conduct' in housing ruffians, and other such fun things. We made several copies and once we had some jails and gate houses and such buildings of brick and wood built, I had the rules posted all around the Shire. Oh, what a glorious mess!

Fights sometimes broke out amongst protestors and the Ruffians knocked quite a few heads. Seven hobbits were arrested and sent to the little jail house. A little group wielding pitchforks, candlesticks, chairs, table knives, and other 'weapon like' paraphernalia marched up in protest to Bag End. They were escorted to the jail house and we accepted their 'contributions'.

By the end of the day the Halflings had already become a solemn folk and many turned the lights out early.

_That should be the start of proper justice to the hobbits, although I don't know how much time I have left…_

I thought, but now I _really_ needed to turn my attention to the issue of the mill!


	7. Ted Sandyman and the Mill

Chapter Seven: Bringing Justice to the Hobbits and the Mill

Chapter Seven: Ted Sandyman and the Mill

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or anything at all except a few lines of dialogue below that are my own. I try to stay true to the book, and I have a little originality only when in the real books "No one's ever seen this Sharkey". But I make Saruman oversee everything because I personally think it is more alike to his character to not trust anyone rather than to be mysterious and hide. I hope you agree.**

**Thank you to my faithful readers! I hope you enjoy!**

**o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0**

The horrifying mornings were all alike. Waking up to singing and laughter made me nauseous and Wormtongue was worse. He kept getting healthier! He put on some weight and he started getting those childlike rosy cheeks. It wouldn't do. If he were happy, he could easily lead a rebellion. I still needed him to fear me. So. Only breakfast for him from now on. No visitors nor dinners, late bedtimes and early mornings. That should do. Just enough to remind him who's in charge and keep him alive. I would make him crawl.

_He should come in useful in case some of the other hobbits get rebellious. And…_

I thought evilly

_In case someone needs "taking care of."_

I smiled. I called him and he obediently followed me to the mill, where a Mr. Sandyman, as they called him, a fat, surly hobbit with a mean smile, was working. I did not bring Lotho around, for instead of "Chief" as he preferred to be called, the angry Halflings started calling him "Pimple," for his big pink face was becoming an icon for trouble. I let him hide at Bag End. He was easy prey and I no longer had to worry about him. He got busy selling what the 'gatherers and sharers' collected, and then distributed the funds. Carts rolled in every day now, carrying away the last of the Southfarthing leaf (except for my 'meager' share) and crops. With winter coming on at the end of September, many Halflings up roared again, and we collected more 'contributions'. Angry was the word to describe the hobbits.

_Perfect. An excellent welcome party for the Halflings, I should say!_

Now for this, Sandyman. If he was mean enough, I could use my trademark (and gradually distasteful usage thereof) persuasion. If he was like Gaffer Gamgee, all 'patriotic', then I'd have to take the mill from him. So I brought a couple ruffians along as well. Once that was in my control, a big part of Hobbiton would be mine. The lot of them thought that if I was going to 'take over' the Southfarthing I should get it over with and stop putting up pretenses. Just goes to show what fools men can be.

"Mr. Sandyman," I said. He turned, and a frown quickly developed when he saw me. "What be ye wanting here, sir?" he asked. "You'd be one o' them ruffians, wouldn't ye be? Well I want none of it, ye hear? Now git, 'cuz I ain't gonna let them gatherers and sharers here, I got me a lot a work 'ere."

_Great. He's patriotic. That will soon mend,_ I thought.

"Knock down his mill." I ordered, and the ruffians at once began to tear down his structure.

"What be going on here?" Sandyman shouted. "You stop it right now!" he was arrested. His son, Ted came running up. "Da, what's going on?" he asked. "The Shire is being improved," I answered. "Now step aside. If you want to help us, you can sign up and promote machinery and rations, or you can go keep your father company in the jailhouse. My sheriffs would be more than happy to host you." I smiled. The ruffians chuckled as they grasped tighter at their clubs.

He looked around. Suddenly happy that he no longer had a master, as his father was carried off, he stepped over. "What is to be done?" he asked. A little mean grin crossed his lips as he joined. I was glad for this union, because the arrests were tiresome, and if not anything else the hobbits could always release their friends and all would be well. That would never do.

The Mill was taken care of, but I needed Wormtongue's transformation to disappear, and then there was a small issue at Bag End that needed attending to. I urged the ruffians and our new addition of the band to follow me. We climbed up the hill and over to the hobbit hole. We turned our faces to Bagshot Row.


	8. Unpleasant Business

**Warning: There literally is unpleasant business covered in this chapter. If you have read the Return of the King, then this should not bother you, but if you have not, and even more so, are not in high school yet, it is kind of a disturbing chapter. I do not use foul or unclean language, and I try to keep everything that is yucky at a minimum. I do not describe the unpleasant business, so it is safe to read, but it is not the most enjoyable chapter, for it is a rather evil story. I'm probably making it sound worse than it is so I'll be quiet now. Enjoy! (I hope) :wink:**

**Chapter Eight: Unpleasant Business**

I had instructed a group of ruffians, Ferny, and Ted Sandyman to build a bigger mill in place of the old one, with well oiled machinery and wheels. It was built within a few weeks. Plans had gone quite splendidly for several weeks and I was beginning to enjoy my task.

Ferny got to keep watch at the front gate to Hobbiton, and he was highly 'respected' by the hobbits as in charge, and after the grey guardhouse was built, he became lord over it. I began to wonder why the four hobbits hadn't shown up yet. I shrugged

_They're dillydallying, just like Halflings,_ I thought.

They probably were sauntering in the woods and playing with storybook fantasies on the way. I decided not to worry. The more time for me, anyway. Ted's job was to keep the machinery in good shape as the ruffians put up more ugly grey buildings. It was going splendidly. But a little garden was in my way.

Bagshot Row, the prize garden of the patriot, Gamgee, was next door to Bag End. I gathered some ruffians and it was quickly dug up. Gamgee was moved to a little shack that had been newly built. It was definitely an improvement. He sobered instantly. He just whimpered and cried all day and night.

But Lotho was getting troublesome. Many hobbits were displeased to see him, even his mother, who had gotten so fed up that she insisted that I did not get the carts coming up the lane and stood in the way of many ruffians in the road with her umbrella wielded as a weapon. She went promptly down to Lockholes. But Lotho remained a problem. He was often encouraged to stay indoors and not show his face for fear of rioting.

Although, I suppose I had good news too. Wormtongue had quite improved to my great satisfaction. He groveled at my feet and followed orders, and he had resumed his old scrawniness. It was delicious to see him slithering around like a domesticated snake, and I took immense joy in it. I instructed him to do an unpleasant job and he turned pale and deathly white.

I grinned evilly. "Idiot!" I shouted, kicking his side. He clutched his rib and moaned, then whimpered. "Look up at me when I'm speaking to you, dog!" he looked up after I had struck him again. "You must do this task." I said, still in an authoritarian tone, but now using my magic touch. My sweet words filled his pathetic ears. "No one will ever know it was you, if you wish, nor that it was even done, and it is absolutely necessary. I have given you many reasons, and if you do not, I shall starve you to death," I said. "There is no reason not to, and you cannot argue against reason. Will you, or will you not?" I asked him.

His starving eyes looked at my dinner. The thought of not eating was horrifying, and it worked. He nodded. "I'll do it." He whimpered. I smiled.

o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0

A sense of relief flooded over me that night. I knew now that Lotho was dead, and that no one else knew. Wormtongue wouldn't tell, because he did not wish for his crime to be exposed. It was completely confidential. I could continue to use Lotho's name about business and do whatever I wished. He had been _so_ troublesome that I could hardly make any progress. But now that was taken care of. And his blood now lay on Wormtongue's hands and I was innocent.

_Well, as innocent as an evil wizard with evil plans can get, I suppose._

I slept with a clean conscience and a hope for the morrow. After that unpleasant business had been taken care of I could make progress and get this whole hobbit affair over with. I greedily anticipated the hobbits arrival.


	9. The Party Tree's Farewell

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: The Party Tree's Farewell and the Hobbits' Welcome

**Disclaimer: Thank goodness I own none of the heartbreaking characters and recorded actions as my own original work that is before you. **

**Warning: Chapter Ten wraps up this story and will be the final and closing chapter! Please review!**

Work went according to plan. If the hobbits dared complain, I'd give them something to complain about. Oh, how fun and evil it was getting to be. Finally some progress. I knew that my plan was working and I only had one fear: being brainwashed by the idiot Halflings and becoming a happy wizard like Radagast. Brown was an ugly color anyway. Well, plans and business went well. No one suspected Lotho's murder and I was contenting myself on the last of the beer and weed of the Southfarthing. I made many a penny and gave many to the Ruffians as well in payment for their help, and even they did not suspect being cheated.

_Ooh, how this was starting to get fun._

I was anticipating the hobbits arrival quite eagerly, for it was now early October and they had not arrived as of yet. I only hoped my sheriffs would obey and alert me at their coming. With Lobelia in the stocks and Lotho dead, I moved into the bedroom where the fire was. It was warm in those chilly days in the Shire, and it was getting tiresome. Wormtongue slept on the hard floor by my small bed like a dog and I posted a guard to assure me that he would never murder again.

Day in and day out carts rolled in and carried off the 'gathered' and brought in the 'shared'. Many mills and buildings and inns were torn down and machinery built up. "A big green lush tree was the only encouragement to the Gaffer now, and many a halfling went to it for consolation. I promptly tore it down. The big tree was hard to bring to earth, for its roots went deep. It was pulled for many a long while and eventually some men got down by the roots with shovels and sharp objects to get it out. It fell down with a crash as many of the little hobbits just stared.

They had blank, shocked faces. Some were crying inconsolably and nestled their faces into friends' arms. Some were trying to be 'strong' and not cry, but I had to think.

_It was like a children's funeral or something. Like a landmark of happiness had died_.

No matter, they were overreacting. In order to make an eloquent point that times were changing and the old will die, I left the tree there to rot. And rot it did. The stench, mixed in with the smoke of industry, made it smell a little more like home at Orthanc. The idiots were unaccustomed to it and were mopey for a long time.

But rules were rules and after a while, they began to follow them. Perfectly.

o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0

It was the first of November by the time I had heard that the hobbits had indeed reached the Shire, and the news I heard pleased me. They were dismayed by the damage. Good. They were arrested that very day, although I did not know it then. But progress continued. Quite to my satisfaction.

But other news I heard surprised me. They were nobler, giving to others and breaking rules. It did not bother me though. For three months I had transformed the Shire, and it was more like a regulated dessert than a hobbit town anymore. I had brought the hobbits low. They could do nothing. Nothing! Could they? Nonsense, it was ready. I was ready. The Shire had fallen.

My victory was almost complete.

**Chapter Ten wraps up this story and will be the final and closing chapter! Please review!**


	10. The End

Chapter Ten: The End

"This is worse than Mordor! Much worse, in a way. It comes home to you, as they say; because it is a home, and you remember it before it was all ruined."

Music. Those words were music to my ears. At last, at LAST my sweet revenge was complete. After Sam, I heard Merry speak. "If I had known all the mischief he had caused, I should have stuffed my pouch down Saruman's throat!" Hm, that sounds like the perfect cue.

"No doubt," I said, entering. I must admit that I had waited so long for this moment that I was smiling with surprising pleasure. "But you did not and so I am able to welcome you home. You made me laugh, you little hobbit lordlings," I continued, quite satisfied with my mockery. "You thought you had done very well and all and could just amble back and have a nice…quiet… time in the country." My words were drenched in perfect harmonious sarcasm.

"Oh yes, _Saruman's_ home could be all wrecked and _he_ could be turned out but _no one _could touch _yours_. 'Well,' thought I, 'if they're such fools, I will get ahead of them and teach them a lesson.' One ill turn deserves another." I made sure to look directly at Peregrin and Meriadoc as I uttered those words. "It would have been a sharper lesson if only you had given me a little more time and more men. Still, I have already done much that you will find it indeed quite hard to mend or undo in your lives. And it will be pleasant to think of that and set it against my injuries." I finished.

"Well," said Frodo "if you find pleasure in such, I pity you." From behind me I heard angry hobbit cries of "kill him! The villain, kill him!" I whirled around and stepped toward them and imitated their shouting.

"Kill him! Kill him! If you think I lost my power along with goods!" I stood above them menacingly. "Whoever strikes me shall be accursed!" I thundered. "If my blood stains the Shire it shall wither and never again be healed!"

"Do not believe him," Frodo said. "He has lost all power but his voice and he can still deceive you, if you let it. But do not stay him. It is useless to meet revenge with revenge. It will lead to nothing! Go, Saruman!" I turned to go, but I drew my knife and swiftly stabbed the hobbit warrior. One last grievance and his words would die with him. The blade snapped at his coat of mail and before I knew it, Sam had me laid on my back with his sword at my throat. A sensation came across me that I had not known before. Fear. And then wonder.

Wise and cruel, Frodo ordered me spared to live the rest of my life in debt of his mercy. I stood. "You have robed my revenge of sweetness," said I "and I must go hence in bitterness, in debt of your mercy. I hate it and you." I declared, broken. The Worm followed me as I left.

"Wormtongue, you need not follow him," Frodo softly called. "You have done me no evil. Food and rest you may find here until you are strong enough to go your own way."

"No evil?" I laughed "Did I hear someone ask where Lotho was hiding? You know, don't you, Worm? Will you tell them?" He whimpered a tortured "no, no!". I looked up from him to the crowd. "Then I will. Worm killed your 'chief', didn't you, Worm? Stabbed him in his sleep I believe. Burned him, I hope; though Worm had been hungry lately. No, Worm is not really nice. You had better leave him to me."

Hatred entered the wretch's eyes. "You made me do it!" he hissed.

"You do what I say. Well now I say: follow!" I turned on my heel, kicking his pathetic face. Suddenly a cold, sharp blade hit my back and I fell. Darkness surrounded me as I hit the ground and saw no more. Flaming heat burned my body, my soul. The knife turned to ice and slowly, creeping through my fingers, stealing through my heart; spreading like disease, it consumed me.

_fin._


End file.
